


sex is a two-way treat

by morallyambiguous



Series: Baby I can't help it. You keep me drowning in your love. [2]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 10:58:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morallyambiguous/pseuds/morallyambiguous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaldur’s tattoos are sensitive; Artemis likes getting her hair pulled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sex is a two-way treat

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Aquamis, Kaldur’s tattoos are sensitive and Artemis likes getting her hair pulled.
> 
> Author’s Note: So, um, this is my first time writing smut, so if it’s horrible, that’s why. Yeah…..

The first time it happens it’s an accident.  It really is, she swears.

They were walking to the library, talking about the difference between the surface world and Atlantis.  She’d been walking close to him and her hand just lightly brushed past his.  She didn’t know that he would completely stop moving, that he’d shudder like she’d just scared him, or that he would make a noise that should be illegal.  She hadn’t known.  She doesn’t talk about it after he recovers and continues his train of thought like it had never been interrupted.  But she does file it away for later.

 

 

The second time it happens it’s not an accident; it’s not necessarily on purpose either.

He’d been hit with something similar to fear gas. 

He was going out of his mind scared.  She did the only thing she could do, rubbing soothing circles over the beginning of his eel tattoos.  Robin takes that as a cue to inject the Atlantean with the antidote.  Kaldur falls into a calm sleep.  Artemis doesn’t let go.  Even in his sleep, Kaldur doesn’t either.

Later, when everyone else is asleep in their beds he thanks her.

 

 

By the third time she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Hey, Kaldur; you busy?”

He looks up from his book, folding the edge of the page over.  “No.  Why?  Did you need something, Artemis?”

She bites her lip to keep the obvious reply from coming out (Yeah, you.  In me. Now.), and says, “I need someone to spar with; no one’s here right now.”

(She’d made sure of that.  Robin and Wally were out for an all-day movie marathon at the movie theatre down the street.   M’Gann had a cheerleading tournament, so Conner had left with her.)

He closed his book, _The Art of War_ ¸ before smiling at her.  “It is nice to see that you want to devote time to improving yourself, I would be glad to help.  What did you want to work on?”  They headed toward the training room.

“Close range?  You can give me some feedback.”

“That sounds like a plan to me, Artemis, when would you like to start?”

She smirks; she loves it when a plan falls into place.  “Now.”  She charges at him, arms open to make it look like she’s going to hit him, but drops at the last second, feet sliding under his.

He doesn’t fall; he’s too good at what they do to fall in the first few seconds.  Instead he grabs her left leg, trying to throw her away from him.  Her back handspring says otherwise.

He rushes her, but she’s got a plan.  She dodges his fist, but her fingers follow the trail of his tattoos from the back of his hand to his well-defined shoulder.  She watches with a sort of feline glee as he stops moving, and practically spasms.  She knows she’s not imagining the look he gives her afterwards, irises practically black with just a thin circle of silver surrounding them.

But the fight continues, he’s staggering, stumbling slightly, but he still keeps sparring with her.  He goes to hit her and she flips over his shoulder to land on his back.  A swift tap to the back of his knees and he folds like a stack of cards, stomach to the ground and her on his back.

She knows she’s a horrible person.  She takes pride in that fact as she uses her position to drag her nails up both of Kaldur’s arms.  He shudders beneath her, breath becoming even more labored.

“Why,” He pants, “Do I get the impression that you had no intention of actually sparring today?”

She leans her face down next to his, smiling as she takes in the way his gills are fluttering wildly and the blush covering his cheeks.  “Because I didn’t.”  Her smile turns into a grin as she drags her tongue down the thick dark line that covers his left arm.  She can feel the weight of his gaze, and smirks, self-satisfied.

“Are you… Sensitive… Kaldur?”  She asks, taking the webbing between his fingers into her mouth.

He moans, the deep cadence of his voice washing over (and through) her.  “Yes.”  It’s barely a breath; the word is strained.  It’s enough.

“So, what would happen if I let you turn around?”  Her mouth moves from his webbing to trace the black ink of his tattoo before settling near his gills, breathing lightly over them.  As Kaldur trembles beneath her she considers the fact that he’s just one big erogenous zone. 

Not that she’s complaining.

“Please.”

She lets up slightly and he flips them over, pulling her back down to him, not bothering to try to gain control.  Her lips crash over his almost violently, desperately.  She doesn’t know where he learned how to kiss, but _damn could he_.  He acts like a man starving and as she comes up for air he bites her bottom lip.

She lets go of his hands, well aware that if he’d really wanted to he could’ve pushed her off him ages ago.  They go everywhere.  They start at her hips clenching and unclenching as she starts rocking against him, hips pushing against him right where she _needs him to be_.  But when she grinds down on him, he grabs her hair and _pulls_.  She gasps, hips stopping their maddening grinding as her eyes flutter shut.

Kaldur smirks, the expression would be out of place on his face if it wasn’t so god damn attractive.  He flips them over, for the first time taking control.  He pulls on her hair and enjoys the way she moans, voice breathy and low, he would not be the only one losing control today.  “Turnabout is fair play, Artemis.”

She doesn’t say anything in response, choosing instead to push against his chest.  “Your room or mine?”

“Yours is closer.”

The walk to her room is frantic; both of them lose their shirts along the way, fabric giving way under eager hands too impatient to wait for the privacy of her room.  His hands brush along her back, tracing the outline of her bra as she opens the door.  As soon as she throws it open adept fingers are unhooking it and coming around to— _oh._

She throws her body back into his, panting as his fingers tease her nipples, rubbing them, twisting them; she curses him for regaining his composure.  That’s the last thing she wanted.

She rocks her hips back against his, feeling the hard ridge of his arousal against her lower back.  God, she needed him, but not until he was just as needy, just as breathless as she was (some would say that Artemis turns everything into a competition, she would say that they could go fuck themselves).

She wraps her legs around his waist as he spins her around.  Her legs tighten around his hips as she grinds.  He’s right where she’d want him to be if they weren’t wearing so many _god damn_ _clothes._ The rocking picks up speed, she whimpers despite all of her efforts not to and digs her nails into his back.  He almost buckles beneath her.  If the wall hadn’t been there they would’ve fallen to the floor.  His head falls to her chest as he takes a moment to regain control, but she won’t let him, choosing to drag her nails over the sensitive tattoos on his back.  He looks up at her, grey eyes blown with lust, challenging.  She doesn’t have a second to think before he’s pushing her up further against the wall and his mouth latches onto a nipple.  She hits her head against the wall (she knows she’s going to bruise later, but that doesn’t really matter), and practically screams.  She’s suddenly glad that she had the forethought to make sure everyone was gone.

“Bed.  Now.”  She pants.

Kaldur knows better than to argue and places her down gently.  She snorts, he’s been far from gentle almost this whole time (not that she’s complaining).  She pulls him back onto her.  “Pants, Water-boy.”

He rips his pants off and the reminder of how strong he is isn’t the only thing that makes her shiver in anticipation.

He hovers over her, large and inviting, teeth nibbling a trail down her neck.  She takes his hand, putting his first two fingers into her mouth and sucking like there’s no abandon, paying close attention to the delicate webbing.  He groans when she pulls them out.  But his eyes go dark as she moves them to where she wants.  He circles her entrance, once, twice, and then finally pushes a finger inside her.  Her back arches, mouth opening in a silent scream as she rides his hand.  He tries to start out slow, but she won’t let him, already too close.  She thrusts her hips against his fingers as fast as they will go, but it’s not enough.  It’s where she wants him, needs him to be, but it’s not enough.

She pushes him up, as fun as foreplay is she’s had enough of it by now, “Condoms.”  Her hand reaches into the dresser by her bed (never say that she isn’t always prepared), and seconds later he’s finally _in her_.   He tries to start out slow, but she won’t have any of it, locking her ankles around his back and sets a faster pace.  His head falls onto her chest.  “Artemis.  Παρακαλώ.” 

“I’m not going to break Kaldur.”  She pants, voice breaking off into a moan as he speeds up.  He loses whatever had remained of his composure and the force of his thrusts shake the bed.  Artemis is moaning, saying his name over and over again; if she stops she’ll forget it.  She hears Kaldur muttering her name; it’s caught in between phrases in Atlantean, and that if anything makes her more aroused.

He shifts to adjust their position and she’s _gone._ Seeing stars as she cries out Kaldur’s name.

A low moan of her name soon after tells her that Kaldur had followed close behind her. He lays his head on the pillow next to hers, removing his condom and putting it in the trash.  He starts messing with her hair, tangled after such _strenuous_ activities.

She lets him.

“That was…nice.  Perhaps we should do a repeat performance at a later date.”  He blushes there, despite what had just occurred between the two of them.  “After a proper date of course.”

Artemis laughs.  “Only you, Kaldur, only you.”

She says “yes”, of course.


End file.
